


Flypaper

by MathConcepts



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Beelzebub is the embodiment of done-ness, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fake dating???, Gabriel thinks he's slick, Humor, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Micheal wanted peace and quiet and started this entire thing, NEWS FLASH, One person gets mistaken for another's SO so what's the tag for that?, There's big misunderstandings, This is basically Home Alone but with angels and demon instead of Joe Pesci and Maulkaly Calkin, he ain't, rarepare
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-18 14:35:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19336510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MathConcepts/pseuds/MathConcepts
Summary: Furious over the failed Apocalypse, Gabriel and Beelzebub team up to take down the ones responsible. Crowley and Aziraphale have no intention of coming quietly, and lead Gabriel and Beelzebub on a chase around London, where the two start to learn they have more in common than they ever knew.





	1. Done

**Author's Note:**

> Note, notes, notes...hmm, Michael, Uriel, Dagon and Beelzebub, are usually referred to in masculine terms, but in the TV version of Good Omens, they have female bodies, so I'm just going to use feminine terms. Just letting everyone know, so there is no confusion.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Michael sets up a date without knowing it.

Gabriel's dislike for demons was strong, but the recent blow to his ego (courtesy of one Aziraphale and Crowley) was stronger than any hereditary rivalry. Which is to say that he was a hypocrite for prioritizing personal grievances over tradition.  
  
Beelzebub on the other hand, regarded demons with the same detached mein with which she regarded all things. That is not to say that her ego was not smarting as well in the wake of what was being called the Bathtub Incident, but she was less prone to dramatics and hypocrisy than her angelic counterpart.     
  
With that in mind, it was naturally Gabriel who arranged the truce between them. Or more specifically, Michael.   
  
It had been approximately a week since the Apocalypse-that-didn't-happen, and Gabriel had spent each of those seven days whining about how the Great War had been upstaged, and to top matters off, how he had not even been able to even kill the angel responsible.   
  
Michael had gotten annoyed somewhere around the fifth day. She had entire garrisons of angels to placate, and Gabriel was not helping in any way. She knew Gabriel had been waiting to rub one off in the form of the Great War for six thousand years, but knowing that did not make her sympathetic towards his whining.  
  
Being of a more practical nature than Gabriel, she believed they should move past the disappointment of the failed Apocalypse, and get on with their heavenly lives. She did not mention this to Gabriel, because then he would never shut up, and God forbid that she would be forced to listen to more than she needed to of his grievances.      
  
Michael had heard the human saying _"God does not give one more than they can handle,"_ but when the seventh day rolled around with no sign of Gabriel stopping, she was inclined to dispute that. But she was the Archangel Michael, and she never disputed God.    
  
Instead she pulled her phone out, and went around the corner to make a call.

* * *

  
  
"It's for you, Lord Beelzebub." Dagon said, and passed the phone to Beelzebub. She took it, putting it to her ear, and engaged in a conversation, although conversation was not the most accurate word, Michael did most of the talking, and Beelzebub's side of the conversation consisted of four sentences.  
  
  
"Now why should I do that?...And how do I know that it izzzn't a trap?...Yezzz, I know you're an angel...."Where do I meet you?"   
  
  
She waited until she received an answer, and then tossed the phone back to Dagon.  
  
"You're in charge until I get back." she told the demon, and went off down one of Hell's murky corridors.

* * *

 

It was still very early in the morning, and no one was around to see Beelzebub emerge from the ground of St. James park. Lighting cracked, and Michael and Gabriel appeared the next moment. They glanced around, their eyes falling on Beelzebub.  
  
  
Michael looked moderately pleased, but Gabriel was in a huff.  
  
"Michael, what is this?" he squawked. "You told me you had found a way to take care of Aziraphale!"  
  
"And so I have." Michael replied, hurrying over to Beelzebub, pulling Gabriel along with her. "Lord Beelzebub is the Prince of Hell, you are the...boss of Heaven, and together I know you'll find a way to take care of both your traitors."  
  
"I'm not _working with a demon!_ " Gabriel protested. "We already did that!"  
  
"I lent them some Holy Water, and you two had a three person tete a tete at the airbase with the boy, but that doesn't count as working with them.  Now, you two could start off by following Aziraphale and his demon friend, and find out why they cannot be killed by conventional means." Michael suggested, internally praying for Gabriel to agree.  
  
Even if stalking Aziraphale and his demon was, as the humans said, _a wild goose chase,_ it would mean that Gabriel would be down on Earth, and not bitching her ears off in Heaven.  
  
She was soon gratified to know that she hadn't underestimated Gabriel's penchant for petty vengeance.  
  
"Well, I suppose I could -" Gabriel began grudgingly, but Michael did not wait to hear more. She certainly wasn't going to give Gabriel a chance to change his mind.   
  
"Excellent, excellent." Michael said hurriedly, shoving Gabriel in Beelzebub's general direction. Beelzebub, who had up until that moment been silent, opened her mouth to speak, but Michael had already vanished.

* * *

  
  
"I don't want to work with you." Gabriel said sullenly, casting a baeful look at his companion. Beelzebub's expression didn't change in the slightest.  
  
"Neither do I." Beelzebub said flatly.  
   
"Aziraphale owns a bookshop. We could start there." Gabriel went on. "You can go trail your demon -"   
  
"I'm going with you." Beelzebub broke in. "I don't truzzzt you."  
  
"Well, the feeling is mutual." Gabriel said haughtily.  
  
"Lead the way." Beelzebub intoned, paying no heed to Gabriel's haughty air. Gabriel shrugged and set off down the gravel path at a moderate pace. Beelzebub kept pace with him, looking straight ahead as she walked.  
  
"This is a clandestine operation, so we will have to blend in with the humans. But not to worry, humans are stupid, and quite easily fooled." Gabriel continued. Beelzebub's focus did not deviate from the view ahead of her, but Gabriel had a sudden sense that she was looking at him.  
  
"Don't exzzzpect me to take your word for it." Beelzebub informed him.  
  
Gabriel scoffed, and they walked on in silence.

* * *

  
  
The sun was rising, and it shone through the windows of the bookshop. Aziraphale was quietly puttering about, a cup of morning cocoa in his hands. Outside the shop, Crowley's Bentley pulled to a stop on the opposite side of the street, and the door to the bookshop swung open a few moments later.   
  
"Oh, we aren't open yet -" Aziraphale began, peeking at his assumed customer from behind a stack of books.  
  
"Fancy breakfast at the park?" Crowley cut him off. Breakfast at the park meant something along the lines of, sit and feed the ducks until lunchtime, and had nothing to do with actual breakfast. But Aziraphale didn't mind the inaccuracy.  
  
"That's a grand idea." the angel readily agreed, and set down his cocoa cup.  
 

* * *

  
  
Gabriel and Beelzebub, who were not overly familiar with Crowley and Aziraphale's habits, were naturally surprised to see the two come strolling into the park.   
  
"What are they doing here? Do they know we are here?" Gabriel said in a hushed whisper, diving behind a tree. Beelzebub stayed on the path, not inclined to take cover.  
  
"Maybe they are juzzzt out for a walk. They like to walk in the park, we caught Crowley here lazzzt time." she said. Gabriel's hand came out, and he pinched a fold of her sleeve between his thumb and index finger, and yanked her behind his tree.   
  
If Gabriel had been paying attention, he would have noticed the flare of indignation in her eyes that was the first true emotion she had displayed since rising from the dirt, but all his attention was on Aziraphale and Crowley.  
  
"Well, it doesn't matter." Gabriel concluded. "We just have to stay hidden, and watch them until we figure out their secret."  
  
A grating noise that could have been a sigh left Beelzebub's throat.  
  
"Do you really think that standing around and looking at them izzz going to do anything?" she said.  
  
Gabriel gave her a cross look.  
  
"Do you have any better ideas?" he inquired, his voice sarcastically laced. Beelzebub answered with a look that was so utterly dull that Gabriel cringed back. "I'll take that as a no." he muttered under his breath.

* * *

  
  
  
Aziraphale tossed bread to the ducks, tossing a handful in the direction of a specific duck. He had figured out that that duck favored a certain type of bread, and come appropriately provisioned.  
  
"You're spoiling that thing, angel." Crowley noted.    
  
"I don't see any harm in giving it what it prefers best." Aziraphale tutted, tossing just a bit more bread at the duck. Crowley tsked and settled into a slouch, watching Azirphale's movements out of the corner of his eye.  
  
  
The sun had barely taken up position in the sky, and its light was still more orange than yellow. Crowley watched the light filter through Aziraphale's feathery curls, turning them to gold. It was pleasant sight to see at the beginning of the day.  
  
  
The air was pleasant too, it was crisp with early-morning freshness, and it smelled...strange. Crowley sniffed discreetly. The smell was familiar - no - it wasn't Aziraphale's latest brand of high end cologne, but something else, a smell like sulfur, but tinged with the smell of clean linen.   
  
Sulfur he recognized, you could always catch whiffs of it in Hell. As for the linen, Aziraphale nearly always smelled of it - _Oh shit._  
  
Crowley spun around, scanning the trees behind him. He saw nothing out of the ordinary at first, but the smell remained. But Crowley wasn't going to stick around to find its source.  
  
"Angel, let's go." he said, turning back to Aziraphale.  
  
"Whatever for, my dear?" Aziraphale said, blinking in confusion.  
  
"There's an another angel, and a demon here somewhere." Crowley said, dropping his voice. "We need to leave."  
  
"Oh dear." Aziraphale sighed, dusting crumbs from his hand and stepping back onto the path. "I thought they were going to let us be. Who do you think is here?"  
  
"My money is on Hastur." Crowley muttered. "As for your lot, they probably sent down a higher-up."

 

* * *

  
  
"What are they doing?" Gabriel said, watching Crowley and Aziraphale hurry down the path. "Is it natural for them to leave this soon? I haven't seen anything yet."  
  
Beelzebub extracted her sleeve from Gabriel's fingers.   
  
"Follow them." she ordered.  
  
Gabriel looked affronted.  
  
"I am the leader of this mission, and as such, I will give the -"  
  
"Who put you in charge?" Beelzebub asked, leaving the cover of the tree and trotting off after the two fading figures. Gabriel momentarily ground his teeth, then after considering what it would do to his pristine dentistry, set off after Beelzebub.   
  
"We can't let them see us." he hissed as he caught up to her.  
  
"Then don't." Beelzebub said plainly. A vein in Gabriel's neck twitched. It appeared that it was going to be, _a long day,_ as the humans would say.

* * *

  
Crowley risked a glance or two behind him, and promptly wished that he hadn't. He lengthened his strides, chopping a minute or so off the walk to car. Aziraphale was right on his heels.  
  
"It's Beelzebub, and Gabriel." Crowley whispered as he got in the car. Azirpahale's expression morphed into one of nervousness.  
  
"Oh dear, oh dear." the angel murmured. "Whatever should we do?"  
  
The Bentely sprang away from the curb at ninety miles per hour, and Aziraphale clutched at the upholstery out of habit.  
  
"We need a plan, Angel." Crowley said. "They've obviously come to kill us."  
  
"Should we switch bodies again, they -" Azirphale began, but Crowley shook his head.  
  
"They won't try killing us with holy water or hellfire again." Crowely said. "If they came, they must have found a way to kill us that they think will work."

* * *

  
Crowley, was of course correct in saying that Gabriel and Beelzebub had come to kill them, but less correct when he assumed that they had found a way to do so. As of that moment, Gabriel and Beelzebub were still under the impression that Crowley and his angelic counterpart were immune to holy water and hellfire respectively, and had not yet found a way around that.   
  
  
"They're gone." Gabriel said shortly, watching the Bentley peel off and race down the street. Beelzebub spared him an idle look.   
  
Gabriel cleared his throat and adjusted his jacket.  
  
"Well, we should still go to Aziraphale's bookshop." he said. "They may be headed there."  
  
"Thizzz izzz ridiculouzzz." Beelzebub grumbled, her rasping lisp becoming even more pronounced. But she didn't offer any objection.

* * *

   
  
"I say we leave London." Crowley suggested.  
  
"They'll find us no matter where go, Crowley." Aziraphale reasoned. "We have to stay here."  
  
Crowley huffed.  
  
"Then what do you say to getting us some holy water then, angel? It's the best chance of protecting ourselves from Beelzebub." Crowley said bluntly.  
  
Aziraphale only hesitated for a few seconds.  
  
"Only if you get hellfire to protect against Gabriel." he agreed.  
  
"Done." Crowley said, and hit the accelerator.

* * *

 

  
Gabriel snapped open the bookshop's door and went in. The shop was empty, and dark, lit only by the sunlight streaming in through the windows. In Gabriel's opinion, it was one of the most untidiest places he had ever seen, rivaling only Hell. Too many stacks of books, too much furniture, which made it too constricting.  
  
  
Along that thread, Beelzebub felt...somewhat at ease when she stepped into the shop. She was after all, used to the closeness of Hell.   
  
  
"What are we doing here?" she inquired, her voice an octave or so higher than her usual flat tone.  
  
"I suppose we could wait for Aziraphale to come back. This is his base of operations." Gabriel said. "And while we wait, we can look around, see if we find anything that can tell us why Aziraphale didn't burn - "  
  
"He'zzz gone native. They both have." Beelzebub interrupted, sitting down on an armchair. It wasn't her throne, but it would do. The entire bookshop was fine, as it went, although it could use some more dirt.  
  
"That's preposterous." Gabriel said. "Gone _native?_ You don't mean to imply that an angel can become more human than divine?"  
  
Beelzebub shrugged lethargically.  
  
Gabriel had no response for her clear disinterest in debating him, so he settled for repeating his early suggestion.

"We should look around."  
  
  
"Then look around." Beelzebub said.  
  
Gabriel clenched his jaw tightly, though he was careful not to grit his teeth, and turned around to rummage in a pile of books. Beelzebub stared at his back for lack of better options.  
  
Despite her core personality being impressive stotic-ness, there was only so much egotistical blustering a demon could take. She was beginning to understand Michael and her need to get rid of Gabriel a little better now.   
  
Which was not a good thing in the slightest.  
  
Demons and angels did not understand each other, they fought with each other.

* * *

 


	2. Flypaper

 It had been roughly an hour, and Gabriel's 'search' had turned up nothing of interest except for a case of dusty bottles with embossed labels. Gabriel picked up a bottle, blowing the dust off it and leaving it miraculously gleaming.  
  
"Cheval Blanc, 1914." Gabriel read from the label. "Perhaps this is what gives Aziraphale his power to withstand hellfire." Behind him, Beelzebub's eyes rolled skyward.  
  
"It'zzz wine." she said. "Humanzzz drink it and do stupid things. We gave Crowley a commendation for showing Noah how to make it." ***** While Beelzebub thought even less of humans than Gabriel, she knew more about them, and more about how to blend in with them than Gabriel did.  
  
She had left her flies and ooze in Hell, and had came up with a clean and pressed suit, just as she had done when she came to talk to Adam, knowing that humans would look at one askew if one's face was buzzing with flies and was sticky with goo.  
  
And she knew what wine was, and what it could do. It wouldn't make a person immune to hellfire, but it could certainly send a person into it.   
  
Gabriel turned to look at her incredulously.   
  
"Just how many things has this Crowley done?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. Beelzebub returned his look with one of boredom.  
  
"I don't have the filezzz here with me, but he's rezzzponsible for the Spanish Inquisition, the Reign of Terror, the -"  
  
"He's the one that caused all that, and yet he still went rouge? If he was so good at his job, why'd he help stop the Apocalypse?"    
  
"I don't know. Why did one of your angels go rouge and help stop the Apocalypzzze?" Beelzebub rasped.  
  
"Aziraphale was corrupted by fraternizing with your demon." Gabriel snapped.  
  
"That'zzz what demons do, corrupt the innocent. And you zzay that Crowley corrupted an angel. I should give him a commendation for that, before I kill him." Beelzebub said.  
  
His lips pinched, Gabriel slammed the bottle of wine down on the table next to Beelzebub, and went off behind another stack of books.

* * *

  
"I don't see why we can't go to the bookstore." Aziraphale said as Crowley pulled up outside the building where his flat was.  
  
"The bookstore is flammable, angel." Crowley said pointedly.  
  
"And your place is not?" Aziraphale countered.  
  
"My place does not have stacks and stacks of easily burnable paper lying around." Crowley muttered, getting out of the Bentley. It was possible that he was just the slightest bit traumatized from finding Aziraphale's bookstore in flames, although he'd never admit it to Aziraphale.  
  
"Come on, angel." he said gruffly.   
  
Aziraphale got out, and retrieved a five-gallon container of holy water from the backseat. They'd nearly drained a church, or Aziraphale had, of its holy water supply to fill it. Aziraphale had thought that five gallons was an immense overkill, but Crowely had insisted.   
  
Crowley retrived something from the backseat as well, causing Aziraphale to look at him curiously. Crowely had made a small excursion to get a certain item while Aziraphale was busy in the church.  
  
"Crowley, what's that?" Aziraphale said. Crowley glanced down at was he was holding, which was a long, tightly wrapped roll of...  
  
"Flypaper." Crowley admitted.  "It's flypaper."   
  
"Why on earth do we need flypaper, Crowley?" Aziraphale asked. Crowely shrugged, tucking the roll under his arm.  
  
"We're dealing with Beelzebub...Lord of the Flies and all." Crowley muttered.  
  
"That is in extremely bad taste." Azirphale scolded. Crowley snickered shamelessly.  
  
"Yes, but trying to kill us is in extremely bad taste too, angel." he said.

* * *

 

   
  
"The angel hazzn't come." Beelzebub said. The minutes were ticking by, and neither Aziraphale or Crowley had come to the bookstore. The two in question were currently at Crowley's flat, though of course Beelzebub and Gabriel had no way of knowing that.   
  
"He'll be here." Gabriel said dismissively. He wasn't sure if Aziraphale was going to turn up anytime soon, but he'd be dammed before he admitted that to Beelzebub. But Beelzebub had already reached her own conclusion.  
  
"Thizz is a wazzte of time. Crowley hazz a place, I'm going there." she said, standing up.  
  
"I'm not going with you into a demon's lair." Gabriel protested, but Beelzebub didn't even spare him a shrug, just walked to the door and went out. Gabriel hung back for a perfunctory moment of protest, then followed her.  
  
The streets had since filled with people, but they all gave the two figures emerging from the bookshop a wide berth, even though the two were an extremely strange pair.  
  
Gabriel glanced from side to side at the pedestrians.

"These humans, there's so many of them, they're like -"  
  
"- Flies." Beelzebub finished.  
  
"Right. Flies." Gabriel said after a pause.

* * *

  
  
  
Under Crowely's direction, Aziraphale had filled the plant mister and propped up buckets of holy water on every doorframe in the flat. Crowley himself was well out of any splash range, and was messing about near the front door.  
  
"Crowley, what are you doing over there?" Azirahale called, peeking out from between the leaves of a plant.  
  
"Just adding the finishing touches." Crowley said, who was busy tacking down sheets of flypaper to the floor near the door. "Stay away from the plants, angel." he added.   
  
Crowely had discreetly miracled away a statue or two from his flat before he had brought Aziraphale up, he didn't want Aziraphale to get his feathers ruffled by seeing those. ***** But the plants had remained, which may have been a bad choice. Knowing Aziraphale, he'd start coddling them, heav-hell forbid.  
  
"Crowley, these poor things are _frightened_." Aziraphale went on, caressing a plant's trembling leaf.  
  
"As they should be." Crowley growled back. Aziraphale didn't answer, but Crowley heard some faint murmuring from the angel's direction and sighed. He was going to make those plants _soft._

* * *

  
  
Gabriel and Beelzebub stood outside the building where Crowley's flat was in. The Bentley was parked in plain view at the curb, and so both the demon and archangel knew that their quarry was present.  
  
"You're going in firzzzt, Archangel." Beelzebub informed her companion.  
  
"Why?" Gabriel challenged, more out of the principal of arguing than actually wanting to argue.  
  
"The last time a demon went into Crowley's place, he killed them with holy water. You're going first."    
  
"Fine." Gabriel agreed, and strode onwards.

* * *

  
  
Crowley's head snapped upwards. There was that smell again, the unique mingling of a demon and angel's scent. It set his teeth on edge, it meant danger.  
  
"Angel." he called back towards Aziraphale. "They're here."  
  
"Already?" Aziraphale piped up nervously.  
  
"Yessss." Crowley hissed, standing up and manifesting a small spark of hellfire in the palm of his hand. If one wanted large quanties of hellfire, one would have to go get it. But demons could manifest a small flame or two a will - Hastur used that ability to light his cigarettes.     
  
"Alright angel," Crowley began, backing away from the door, "When they come in, I'll throw the fire, and then you miracle us out of here." *****  
  
"But, your things, they'll burn." Aziraphale said. Crowley snapped his fingers, and the things in question, the plants, framed sketches, and Crowley's ancient answering machine disappeared.  
  
"There." Crowley said. "Now all we have to do is come back later to redecorate the place."  
  
"Are you sure this will work?" Aziraphale said skeptically.  
  
"It worked for me last time." Crowley said.  
  
"Crowley, do you realize that we about to kill the leaders of Heaven and Hell?" Aziraphale whispered squeakily.  
  
"It's either them or us, angel." Crowley whispered back as the door creaked open.

* * *

  
Beelzebub stood behind Gabriel, watching as he opened the door with a snap. He stepped in, and when no splash of water was forthcoming, gestured Beelzebub forward.  
  
She slipped in past him, and stood with her hands on her hips, surveying the flat.  
  
"Check the other rooms, he'zzz here somewhere." she said. Gabriel gave her a glance of annoyance and went to the revovling door, pushing it open. A large bucket toppled down, splashing copious amounts of holy water in all directions.  
  
Beelzebub leapt back to avoid the droplets, and her foot caught on the edge of the flypaper sheets spread on the floor, causing her to go toppling down backwards onto them.  
  
Gabriel, now thoroughly soaked, had enough presence of mind to duck as a small fireball sailed it his direction. It passed over him and fell straight onto a small puddle of holy water, extinguishing it.

* * *

  
Crowley in hindsight, should have waited two seconds longer to see if his projectile had met its mark, but as soon as he had flung the ball of hellfire, he had turned back to Aziraphale, who had grabbed his hand and miracled them both into the Bentley.

* * *

 

  
  
Gabriel straightened back up, looking over at Beelzebub. The demon was propped up on her hands, tendrils of a sticky substance clinging to her clothes.  
  
"What...is that?" Gabriel said, pointing to the surface that she was resting on.  
  
" _Fly. Paper._ " Beelzebub snarled. The flypaper itself was doing her no harm whatsoever, but it was the sentiment that counted. Crowley had specifically put it there to make a joke at her expense, and Beelzebub knew this.  
  
She had paid quite a bit more attention to Crowley's particular brand of mischief than she let on, and while it was tolerable when pointed at other people, she in no way appreciated it when it was directed at herself.  
  
"What's flypaper?" Gabriel asked.  
  
"Humans use it to catch flies. It'zz sticky, and the flies get stuck on it." she answered.   
  
"The flies...get stuck on it...and you're Lord of the Flies, so..." Gabriel said, unraveling the joke. And then he began to chortle.  
  
Beelzebub rewarded him with a disgusted glare that did nothing, and then made an internal conviction to _skin_ and _roast_ Crowley when she got her hands on him. She had never tasted human food, but she had heard that snake was a delicacy in some parts of the world.

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[ ](https://mega-ringsandthings-world.tumblr.com/image/185785206205)

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * The creation of wine/fermented beverages are attributed to Noah in the bible, after the flood, he plants a vineyard, proceeds to get drunk, and then wanders around stark naked. Given all the trouble alcohol causes for humanity later on, it's safe to assume that Hell would give Crowley a commendation for it.
> 
> * Crowely has a statue from the church that was bombed, and a statue of a demon and angel...wrestling.
> 
> * Crowley's plan consists of booby-trapping his flat with holy water and throwing fireballs. It may sound like a shit plan, but in his defense, it did kill Ligur, and you must also remember that he is one of the idiots who spent eleven years raising the wrong child, and got swindled for more years than that by Shadwell. Strategy isn't really his forte.


End file.
